


Happy Christmas (War is over)

by strixus



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Christmas, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strixus/pseuds/strixus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas after the war finds Duo with Trowa and Quatre, trying to have a normal Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Christmas (War is over)

**Author's Note:**

> Either this, or This Season Will Never Grow Old was the first Christmas fic written for the Gundam Wing Fan Fiction Forum by myself. It became a tradition.

Happy Christmas (War is over) - John Lennon

 

So this is Christmas  
And what have you done  
Another year over   
And a new one just begun  
And so this is Christmas  
I hope you have fun   
The near and the dear one  
The old and the young

Duo Maxwell was beginning to feel cooped up in the large farm house shared by Trowa and Quatre in the middle of the mid western county side, and the feeling was made worse by the drifts of snow that were beginning to accumulate in the fields and in the small fruit orchard around the house. Christmas was now less than a week away, and afterwards, he would leave here, and continue his search for the other pilots, a search that had begun in Budapest a year ago, and had so far lead him only to Trowa and Quatre. He had promised them to stay through Christmas, but after that, he had to move on.

Waiting for him in the barn, resting majestically between the cows and the horses, was his motorcycle, the Little Death. She was built from scrap from the Deathscythe, and he felt the bond to her he had felt towards his Gundam. He had spent the last two years wandering the earth on her back, on the roads of every part of the planet. And now he was trapped in the warm, coziness of the house, and in the hospitality of Trowa and Quatre.

Duo paced through the house, down the long hall and into the kitchen, where Quatre was sitting at the center table. It was a small, Formica ordeal, done in chrome and gray, matching the rest of the kitchen with its black marble countertops and stainless steel accents, and spread out on its surface was a stack of cookbooks. Duo stopped, and watched as the blond young man made notes on a yellow legal pad.

"What are you up to, Quatre?" Duo finally asked.

Quatre started, and laughed, setting down his pen. "I'm composing the Christmas dinner menu. This is the first time we've had a guest for Christmas, so Trowa suggested that we do something special."

Duo nodded. "Anything I can do to help? I feel sort of, well, lost around this big old house, with not much to do." And lonely, he added mentally.

"Well, you can settle the argument Trowa and I had this morning." Duo raised an eyebrow and grabbed a chair, knocking his braid habitually out of his way to sit down. "Do you like turkey or pork better?"

Duo could only laugh.

 

A very merry Christmas   
And a happy New Year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear

The snow had let up around midday, leaving mid calf deep drifts around the house and barn, and blanketing the fields in unbroken waves of snow. Duo stood on the back step of the farmhouse, hugging himself for warmth. As wonderfully warm as his battered, black flight jacket had kept him on the road, it did little good against the bone numbing cold of still snow. Better to get to the barn as quickly as possible, and stop standing in the snow accumulating drifts like the trees, Duo thought. He bounded across the short back yard with the fluid grace of a large, black cat bounding through the snow, braid flying and flapping behind him, leaving a trough through the snow.

He had come out to the barn for two reasons, one superficial, and the other very private. He had told Quatre and Trowa he needed to check on the Little Death, to see how the huge bike was fairing in the cold weather. What he really needed, and even knew and admitted to himself, was time away from the inside of the house. It was less than a full week till Christmas, and Duo was beginning to regret promising Quatre that he would stay until Christmas. The road was calling, and more importantly, he needed to find the other two pilots. Wufei and Heero were still out there somewhere that he hadn't been or looked yet.

Duo sighed, and walked over to the empty stall where the Little Death was parked. She was long, a chopper bike with the extended front suspension fork that almost extended the bike's length to half again what it would be without, and all sleek black and polished chrome. Looking at her now, Duo remembered finding the rusted out hulk of her chassis right before the start of the Eve Wars, barely the same bike she was now. The steel frame had been overlaid with gundanium reinforcements, the leather redone with leather salvaged from the Deathscythe's pilot's chair. She stood amid the hay like a savage jungle cat captured by a zoo, impatience and stress radiating at almost visible wavelengths.

Duo sighed, and sat down in the hay beside the huge bike, leaning his head back against one of the black leather saddlebag as he had spent many nights on the road. He closed his eyes, thinking of the open road, and wishing, despite the deep snow and the bitterly cold wind, to be out on it. Those thoughts brought up memories of last Christmas, a memory he was none too fond of. He had been in Edinburgh, hold up for the night in a small combination pub and hotel, and had spent the night drinking scotch and sake alternately, till he had been carried to his room by the barmaid. Duo smiled to himself at that memory of being so slovenly drunk that the huge woman had slung him over her shoulders in a fireman's carry and drug him up to his room.

Duo suddenly perked, hearing footsteps in the straw at the barn door. At first, he thought it was Quatre, come to track down his reluctant guest for yet more holiday meal planning, but the steps were too heavy to be those of the blond pilot. Trowa, then, he thought, it must be. Suddenly there was a shuffling sound, something on four legs, running through the hay at a gallop. And then suddenly, Duo found himself under a sprawl of gray fur, licking tongue, and huge paws.

"Gaaa!" Duo shrieked, trying to fight off the friendly affections of the Irish wolfhound.

"Down, Cigfran! Down!" Yelled a familiar voice. Duo nearly passed out laughing when he realized who it was.

And so this is Christmas  
For weak and for strong  
For rich and the poor ones   
The road is so long  
And so happy Christmas  
For black and for white   
For yellow and red ones  
Let's stop all the fight

Chang Wufei had found Trowa and Quatre in much the same way that Duo had. He had followed the trail of news stories, political influence, and made a few calls to businesses under the Raberba-Winner name. All it took was the mention of his own name, and the information had been freely given. Wufei now sat in the second arm chair of the living room, opposite the couch were Trowa and Quatre customarily sat, with the big, steel gray Irish wolf hound, Cigfran, curled up around his feet.

"Oh, Wufei, had we been expecting you we'd be better prepared." Quatre said, reiterating the general theme of what he had been saying since Wufei had shown up on the doorstep. Duo grinned, since it was exactly what Quatre had said for nearly a day when he had first shown up.

"I'm sorry I didn't call or write first, but I wanted to make it here for Christmas. I –" Wufei paused, looking over at Duo. "I see I'm not alone in suddenly wanting to see everyone again."

"Yah, I guess it's just been too long." Duo said.

"You look good, Wu-man," Trowa said. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

It was true, Duo thought, Wufei did look good, and had apparently done nicely for himself. Wufei talked about his various business ventures, and various travels since the war's end, but the details were more telling to Duo than the stories. Wufei's hair was longer, even more neatly kept if possible, pulled back lower on his neck in a tight braid. His shirt was natural tone silk, his pants wool, and his shoes by a very expensive boot manufacturer from Russia. The car he had driven up in was of European make, with a dark leather interior, and a decent engine under the hood. Duo was impressed.

"Well, it looks like we are all here –" Trowa began.

"Except for one." Quatre finished.

Duo nodded. "Except for one."

A very merry Christmas   
And a happy New Year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear

Christmas Eve came with a dawn filled with refreshed snow flurries, and even colder wind than had been blowing before. Trowa and Duo, sharing a morning pot of coffee before the others rose, both sat watching the snow fall through the kitchen window. The day would be long and busy once Quatre and Wufei woke, filled with cooking and other preparations for the Christmas dinner. There were salads to make, oysters to shuck, roasts to stuff and roast, and deserts gel. Trowa said that Quatre usually cooked enough food to last two weeks when it was just the two of them, so Duo almost dreaded how much food would go through the kitchen of this small farm house with four people present. But for now, they both sat watching the snowfall, with all the thoughts of the hard days work ahead of them gone from their minds.

"I've got a confession to make, Trowa." Duo said, watching the eddies of snow.

"Hn? What is it, Duo?" Trowa asked.

"I like snow." Duo said.

"Duo, of all the things I thought you might say, that's the one I didn't think of." Trowa laughed. "I like it too."

"Merry Christmas, Trowa."

"Merry Christmas, Duo."

And so this is Christmas   
And what have we done  
Another year over  
And a new one just begun   
And so this is Christmas  
I hope you have fun  
The near and the dear one   
The old and the young

Dinner was an affair to remember, Duo thought to himself as he alternately sucked down cold oysters and hot sake. First had been cold smoked fish, and salads of wintergreens and lettuce, followed by a venison stew Duo could have made a meal of. Then Trowa had borne out an ox roast so heavy that even he had sagged under its weight, which the four of them had descend on like wolves, and whose bone Cigfran was still chewing on hours later. Then it had been deserts, two cakes and two pies, as well as an ungodly number of pastries, followed by the heaping plate of ice chilled oysters that now filled the majority of the table.

Wufei sat beside him, dipping oysters in a martini glass using a shrimp fork, and sucking them off the fork after nearly drowning them again in lemon juice. Both were on their way to getting seriously drunk. Duo thought again of the Christmas before that he had spent in that Scottish pub, and wondered who would be the one carrying him up to his room this year.

"What are you grinning about, Duo?" Trowa asked from across the table, where he sat picking oysters out of their shells with a short ice pick. Duo realized he had laughed out loud at his private memory, and blushed. "Oh come on and tell us." Trowa insisted. So Duo recounted his previous Christmas, including how the barmaid had slug him into bed and sat on him till he had fallen asleep.

"She was huge, as big as a wine keg. Bigger!" Duo laughed.

"You never change, Duo." Wufei said, "Always in trouble with women." Cigfran barked in agreement, and Wufei tossed him a martini soaked oyster.

"Nice dog," Duo said, "You're starting to look like it. It's a definite improvement."

"Oh, haha." Wufei took the top off the martini he had been dipping oysters in. "Ah, perfect."

"You've spent too much time in Siberia, Wu-man. Next you'll be eating raw reindeer." Duo laughed, took a deep drink out of the sake cup, and passed out into his plate of shells. Everyone else at the table laughed, and made a toast to those things that never changed.

War is over over  
If you want it  
War is over now...

Duo awoke early Christmas morning, his head aching painfully. Rolling out of bed, Duo found that he was dressed still in what he had warn the day before. But it was only when he looked in the guest room mirror and saw the cut on his cheek that he remembered passing out cold into a plate of oyster shells. It had been, Duo thought a well-spent Christmas Eve.

He made is way down stairs, led by his nose to the smell of brewing coffee in the kitchen. Trowa was there, as he had been the day before, lording over the pot of coffee.

"Morning, Duo." Trowa mumbled. Duo mumbled back something to the same effect. "Coffee?" Duo took the offered cup in answer.

And suddenly the kitchen was filled with sunlight, as Quatre bounced into the kitchen and pulled back the thick shades that covered the windows. Both Trowa and Duo cringed, and said something incoherent in morning and hung over surprise.

"Merry Christmas!" Quatre yelled.

"Don't yell." Trowa and Duo said together.


End file.
